A HellBoy Xmas
by Madcheshiregirl
Summary: HellBoy finds an old photo that brings back memories of his first Christmas.


A HellBoy X-mas

HellBoy, Abe Sapien, General Norton Ricker, Professor Bruttenholm, The Torch of Liberty, and Mac the dog © Mike Mignola

Written by Francine Loiuse Farley –

C'MON! I know I left em' right here!" But obviously, I didn't, or else they'd _be_ here. Maybe I left them over there? …Nope, not in there either. Silver bullets, handy little guys, takes care of a good variety of monsters; they ain't that big either, don't need to be, a little of it goes a long way. Did I check this drawer already? Yeah, not there. Abe and I were leaving tonight for a small town twenty miles southeast of Kiev, Ukraine, and from the sound of the report I received, those silver bullets were gonna be quite helpful. If I can ever find the damn things, that is.

About an aggravating half an hour later, I finally remembered where they were. A few weeks ago I had left them on top of this bookshelf in my late father's, Professor Bruttenholm, study, while I read up on the thing I was gonna shoot. It was this werewolf who was shredding up some cows in the area and- wait, no…it was an Obour, a Serbian vampire-in-training type thing, yeah, they like cows too. Although, I coulda sworn it was a wolf man cause- ach, I don't remember, it doesn't matter. As I reached up and snatched the little bag that held my bullets, a small, square paper floated down off the shelf. I stooped down to pick it up. "Hellooo, what've we got here?"

I was now sitting on the floor, spellbound by the paper, a photo…a very old photo. All I could do was just stare at it, stare and get flooded by memories of my first Christmas.

Well, it technically wasn't my _first_ Christmas, but it is the first one I remember. Come to think of it, it was actually Christmas Eve, not Christmas day. Ah jeez, I was what? Two years old maybe? Criminy! A few minutes ago I couldn't remember the thing I shot last month and now I'm remembering every little detail from when I was two. Oh well, what can I say? I guess I'm just weird like that.

At the time my father and I were living on a base in Rockwell, New Mexico. There was a small celebration held in General Norton Ricker's office, but it was so dreary in there. Gray metal walls, dimly lit florescent lights, a couch with a little TV in front of it, coupla' chairs, and a dying branch someone threw tinsel on and called a Christmas tree. Through the small windows rain spattered down from a dark, gray sky, and it drummed monotonously against the gray, metal roof. A record player had "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas" by Judy Garland playing, and I remember thinking how, well, sad it had sounded. Everyone there was dressed in uniform and looked kinda depressed; probably were missing their loved ones or were just plain bored. Or both. Everything just seemed so stoic, and so damn gray, with me as the one exception. I think it was Ricker's wife who thought it be cute to dress the little _red_ kid in a giant, _green_ sweater… oooo, Christmas colors! How friggin' clever. That thing itched like hell.

Despite the dreary settings, I was so damn excited! I had been told that this, "Santa Claus" person was going to bring me some presents for being a good boy…I didn't quite understand why all of a sudden I was getting presents for being good, but I really didn't give a damn. I was getting stuff, that's all I really needed to know. I remember Ricker had told me someone very special was going to come visit me later that night; I had just assumed it was ol' Saint Nick he was talking about, but I would find out later that I was wrong, really wrong.

Father had left late afternoon to run some certain "errands", (I was told later on he had forgotten to buy me a gift because he'd been so caught up in whatever mission he was on at the time) but assured me he'd be back later that night to catch "It's a Wonderful Life" with me. Poor dad, he had no idea what was in store for him.

Oh Yeah! And Torch! The Torch of Liberty was there! He was a real American hero, fighting your typical bad guys and the supernatural alike. When he arrived, I ran over to him full-speed and hugged his legs…I think I nearly threw out his kneecaps, but he forced out a laugh anyways and gave me a hug. The man was kind of an uncle to me, and I was ecstatic to see him. He was one of the few people who actually treated me like a kid and not some "8th wonder of the world", or more commonly, "devil spawn". Heh, I can even remember the gift he brought me too. Originally Ricker told me I had to wait till Christmas day to open gifts, but Torch said I should be allowed to open one on Christmas Eve, that it was a common tradition (which I still follow to this day). So, Ricker gave in, and I ravaged through the gift-wrapping with record speed. He had gotten me a pair of toy cowboy guns, and I was in pig's heaven… for the moment. To my dismay, I found I couldn't hold the two guns at the same time; my right hand proved too bulky to use the little gun properly. Just as I started sniffling, Torch picked me up (which was no easy task, believe me), sat me on his knee, and told me I just needed one gun anyways, only guys with a bad shot needed two. He then assured me I was gonna be the best gunman in town cause he was gonna teach me how to fire a pistol himself, and with that, he took out his legendary gun and made some "ka-pow" noises as he shot at some invisible cur. Holy crap, did I just say cur? HA! I haven't used the word since, what? Late fifties maybe?

As he placed me back down on the ground I asked if I could see the famous weapon, I heard one of the soldiers comment on how maybe that was a bad idea. But Torch just laughed and handed me the gun as he assured everyone he had used up all the bullets. So as I examined this, treasure beyond all treasures, he listed off each bullet he had used and what it's target was. Just as he hesitated on how he used the last bullet- **BAM! **For an instant, time stopped, no one moved, or made a sound, save for the record playing. Everyone's breath was stuck in their throats, and all eyes were on me. While I had held the muzzle of the gun in my right hand, I had pulled the trigger with my left. As I slowly pulled my right hand away, the squashed bullet shell fell with a soft clang on the floor. Now, I had been scared by the loud sound alright, but for the moment I was terrified I was in trouble, or worse, that the Torch of Liberty would be mad at me.

Everyone was still frozen, but now with shock slash amazement, so I took the opportunity to pick up the shell, and try shoving it back in the gun (hey, it seemed like a good idea at the time). Then, as if on cue, Ricker, Torch, and a soldier rushed up to me to check if I was all right, but I was sure I was in a world of trouble, so I dropped the gun and ran behind a nearby chair. Ah yes, they'd _never_ find me there…can't say hide-and-seek was one of my fortes.

I don't think it took them all too long to coax me out though, I believe there was some eggnog involved, yeah, a giant glass of eggnog, with a cherry, no, two cherries! Yeah! And there was some cinnamon and- uh, ahem, moving on. Everyone at this point had gathered around me; Torch was apologizing left and right while Ricker checked out my right hand. When he commented on how there was no sign of any damage, no burns, no punctures, hell, there wasn't even a scratch, I remember everyone started mumbling in awe all at once. Thinking that I still had done something wrong, I tried apologizing, but Torch stopped me, and gave me a speech about how it was all his fault and then went into a rather lengthy sermon about gun safety…none of which I remember.

It got later and later, and darker and darker, and I wanted my dad. "It's a Wonderful Life" had just ended, and though it was fun to watch it with the Torch of Liberty, I was still disappointed my father wasn't there. He had promised earlier he'd be home to watch it with me, and now I was getting worried. Maybe he forgot? Or he was just running late? Or maybe…maybe he just didn't care. Just as I started thinking he wasn't going to come back at all, the front door flew open, and though it was dark I instantly recognized my father's coat. As I shot towards him, I came to a screeching halt, and flipped head over heels. It was the same coat alright, but that was definitely _not_ my father.

Under the coat, the man had on priest garb; I remember that white collar reminded me of Daffy Duck, cause you know, he had that white ring around his neck too and-well anyways, that guy scared the crap outta me. He looked late thirties, or early forties, and had a face that looked like he had a mean case of hemorrhoids. He was tall and lanky, and just as he loomed over me, Ricker came charging up and shook his hand warmly. He then informed me that _this_ was the man he was telling me about, and my heart sank. I remember the priest saying was something among the lines of, "So this is the…hell boy".

Before he could say anything else, Ricker dragged him away to meet his wife, top lieutenants and of course, the Torch of Liberty. The entire time he was there though, I swear I could feel his eyes burning into me with a hate I hadn't known yet. So I did my best to ignore him, plus the sickening disappointment I felt by drowning myself in some more eggnog. Man that was some good eggnog.

I only got through three glasses before Ricker and, and uh…what was his name? Hold on, lemme think a minute. Eh, I got nothin'. I'll just call him "the priest". Ricker and "the priest" came over, and before I could run off, Ricker put his hand on my shoulder and faced me towards the solemn looking man. Now this I couldn't forget; just as Ricker said "Don't let his looks fool ya, he's a pretty good kid", the priest started chanting whatever passages from the bible, and then with lightning speed pushed Ricker to the side, whipped out a small cantina, and splashed the contents of it in my face. Ah yes, my first exorcism; I just hope that holy water was clean. As a couple of soldiers jumped him, he fought them off the best he could as he called me every combination of demon, devil, spawn, hell, and evil imaginable…not to mention a few curse words. I had already hid behind Torch at this point, and he covered my ears till the soldiers brought the kicking and screaming priest outside. Torch then pulled out a handkerchief, wiped off my face, and told me he had to go have a little "talk" with the mean man.

A few minutes passed and Ricker was in the middle of apologizing and assuring me I'd never have to see that guy again, when my father slipped in quietly through the front door. He was holding some sort of small bundle in his arms, and looked like wreck.

Wanting to make a hundred percent sure that _this_ guy was indeed my father, I merely scuttled over quickly towards him. And it was. I was speechless; I had never seen my father look anything but clean, prim, and proper. But now his face looked bruised, his clothes were torn and dirtied, and he looked exhausted.

He asked first if there was any particular reason Torch was beating the stuffing out of a priest, and a soldier came up and told him all about the night's events. I remember father muttering something among the lines of, "I'm gone a few hours and Hellboy shoots himself and nearly gets exorcised…lovely." Ricker then came up and asked what the hell happened to him, but I butted in and blurted out how he missed the movie, and that he broke his promise. Before Ricker could reprimand me, dad apologized and gave me the best damn excuse a kid could ever ask for. He told me that he ran into Santa Claus on the way home, and that Mr. Claus asked him for his help because he was running late delivering presents. He then explained he got himself all dirty from going up and down chimneys, and was tired from all the presents he helped Santa lift. He then told me that after they were done, Santa gave him the most special present he could think of for me, and with that, he held out the small bundle, lifted up some of the covering, and revealed a sleeping puppy.

I would find out in later years that the true story was poor dad got mugged coming out of the store. Originally he had bought me a bike, but that was stolen along with his wallet and dignity. On the drive home, he had had passed a farm with a sign out that said free puppies, and there was one left, the runt of the litter. All in all he called it a Christmas miracle he was able to find me a great gift at the very last second.

He cautioned me to be very gentle when holding the puppy, and he handed it to me. I was completely blown away. I held it as gingerly as I could; it woke up briefly, yawned, gave me a coupla' licks on my face, and went back to sleep. With tears in my eyes I told dad to tell Santa this was the best gift in the whole entire world, and dad patted my head and told me he already knew. Ricker asked me what I was going to name it, and the first name that came to me was "Mac".

Dad then walked over to the couch and flopped down on it, exhausted. Holding Mac carefully in my left arm, I hoisted myself on the couch with my right hand, and sat down on my father's lap. Torch just came back in and was taken aback from my father's slovenly appearance. When he asked what happened, my father just replied, "I'm going to be sore in the morning."

A minute later he was sound asleep, and right before I fell asleep myself, I heard Ricker tell someone to grab a camera.

Abe walked in. "Hey Hellboy, you find those bullets yet? We have to- uhh, you ok there?" And just like that I snapped out of the memory. "Huh? Uh, yeah. I um, just got a little side-tracked." I hoisted myself up, cracked my neck, and put the photo back on top of the shelf; I'll get it framed when I get back.

I still really don't know how I could remember that night with such vivid detail, let alone remember _anything_ from when I was two. Heh, I guess when you have enough bad memories, you tend to hold on to the good ones a little more carefully. "So, what was that?" Abe said pointing at the bookshelf. I walked over to the door and flipped off the light switch. "Eh, just a photo of me and Professor Bruttenholm. Brought back some old memories. " Abe paused a moment. "I see…um, you sure you're alright?" I waved him off as we left the room. "Yeah, yeah I'm fine, I'm fine. But hey, think we could stop by a grocery mart on the way to the airport? I got a real bad hankerin' for some eggnog."


End file.
